


River, Fury, Force

by TVBS



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, M/M, Mental Illness, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVBS/pseuds/TVBS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's how it's always been. Some days he runs so hot he flubs his words, some days his mind is so deep it's hard to get out of bed. But that's just normal for Ryan. It's nothing to worry about. </p><p>He's fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	River, Fury, Force

Salad chalice.

Ryan just stared at the store's webpage, trying to make the shirt design disappear. It had been bad enough that Jon had wanted him to model the damn thing, but that it actually went up in the store- he thought it was just a joke. After the "Give me your milk" shirt, he should have known better. He sat back in his chair, staring at his computer screen. _Salad chalice,_ could they have chosen something... less embarrassing? His fingers drummed on the mouse, then he stood, pacing around his room. Sitting down wasn't happening right now. Too much energy. If he had been at work, someone would have told him to sit back down and get to work (and right now he would have not been very charitable towards them because fuck them), but at home, he could do this. He could move around at will.

Getting something to eat actually sounded good. It'd give him something to do. Ryan grabbed his wallet and keys, index finger tapping on the wallet for a moment as he remembered the food residing in the pantry. He actually had a lot of food in there. But... he wanted to go _out_. Wasn't there a Half-Price Books somewhere nearby? Maybe he could browse through, see if he found any manga or anything he wanted. Oh yeah, he wanted food. Ryan nodded, starting for his car. He could eat like he was a teenager again. And then workout like crazy because even though he wasn't modelling anymore, he still wanted to keep himself fit.

Oh, but he had something he had to do tonight. That game for The Patch Game Club. He still had to play that. Ryan nodded, laying out a plan. Get food. Come back. Do a quick home workout. Play game. That sounded about right. As long as he didn't get distracted by anything, he could do that.

The need to do something crackled over Ryan's skin, insisting to do more. Well, he could always clean the bathroom like he promised himself he would do. Okay, add that on to the end, after he played the game. His mind whirled, no one thought sticking around long enough for him to closely examine as he drove. That was fine, though. He had a plan. Nothing else really mattered right now. He just didn't need to get distracted, and as long as his thoughts kept whirling like that, at least those wouldn't distract him.

It made it hard to order, though. Hard to remember what it was he wanted to say, and how to say it. Ryan had to close his eyes, block out any visual distractions, just to remember to add "And a Diet Coke."

But it was alright. He just had a lot to do.

* * *

He didn't know how late it was, but no matter what, the bathroom wasn't clean enough. He said he'd finally clean the damn thing, and fuck it. That was exactly what he would do.

Something nagged at him. He was forgetting something. No matter, he'd get to it later. He wasn't tired, after all. As long as it wasn't too late, he could get to it as soon as he was done. Ryan finished filling the bucket full of soapy water and dunked the mop in, wrung it out, and set the head down to start mopping. He had already scrubbed every surface, polished the mirror, and swept, so this was all that was left. He thought. Ryan shook his head, trying to remember if there was anything else. The toilet? No, he had gotten that. He had gotten everything. Well, maybe switch out the towels- right! That was what he needed to do. Except now there was an expanse of wet floor between him and the towels he didn't want to step in. Well, he could mop over it. Ryan carefully went over to the towels, gathering them up and carelessly depositing them outside the bathroom. Okay. Now to-

The Game Club!

Ryan's head shot up as he suddenly remembered. He still hadn't played the game. "Shit," he muttered, fumbling with the mop and bucket. He could put all that away later. Right now, work came first. That needed to be done. All this, the cleaning, this was not as important as work. Ryan swore under his breath as he started up the game, running a hand through his hair. How could he have forgotten? He had put a plan in place. And then he went wildly off track at - shit, it was 10pm. Well, good thing he wasn't tired, because he was going to be up even later than this, doing work.

Shit.

* * *

"Good morning!" Oh God, why did Michael have to be so loud? Ryan lifted one hand, lazily waving at him as he went to his workstation. It wasn't that he was tired or anything, but he had a headache from staying up so late, and he really did not want to deal with Michael's personality today. Or Gavin's. Or Geoff's. Or really anyone's. If he could have, he would have stayed home, but of course he had work today. So much had to be done today, not to mention record more Minecraft. "You look like shit, Ry."

"Thank you," he shot back sarcastically. He knew he looked like shit. At least no live action stuff was being filmed today. He could get away with recording, then hiding away in his tech hole.

... no. Shit. The Patch.

They had a good makeup team. He'd be fine.

Ryan started to slip his headphones over his ears, looking over his shoulder at Michael as he realized the other man hadn't turned back to his work. "Yes?"

"No, just... you doing okay?" Michael tossed a ball between his hands, absently squeezing it before sending to the other hand. "You look like you didn't sleep at all last night."

Carefully, Ryan reigned in the response he wanted to give, and nodded. "I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well."

Michael didn't quite look convinced yet, lowering his head a little to stare at him as he brought his hands up, squeezing the ball between them. "Dude, if you need to take a nap, Geoff won't say shit," he finally said. "We've all done that. And if he does, I'll tell him to fuck off for you."

That sounded... really good. Ryan looked at the headphones in his hands, then at the couch. Taking a quick nap sounded really good. But... "I'm fine," he told Michael, settling the headphones over his ears. "I have a lot to get done, anyway."

For a moment, something crossed Michael's face before he shrugged. "Your funeral."

* * *

How the hell had he forgotten.

Ryan stared down at the pile of towels outside of his bathroom door, taking a long breath. He had forgotten about taking all of the towels out of his bathroom to replace them with clean ones. So these dirty ones had been laying there all day. Ryan looked around, then grit his teeth. Of course he had also forgotten to dump out the dirty water and put the mop away. That was- With another long breath, Ryan pushed down the urge to kick the bucket around and picked it up so he could dump it out. Just get this done. He had forgotten, so now he can get it taken care of.

Today would be a goldmine for the fans. Ryan had flubbed his words so badly that he wouldn't be surprised if a new shirt came out because of it. But he just couldn't keep up with his thoughts enough to make sure he pronounced his words correctly. And that just made today even worse. He had hidden it well on The Patch, smiling against the headache and laughing with Ashley and Gus, but now everything came back in full force. He was just... fuck! Everyone had just been so loud and irritating today! Especially Michael. And that kid hadn't even been recording a Rage Quit. No, Michael had just been his usual loud self. And so in Ryan's face about it all, constantly asking how he was doing. He was fine. Fine!

Fine.

Ryan pulled open the closet door with more force than needed, shoved the mop and bucket in it, and slammed it shut.

_Fine._

* * *

Something cold against his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts. Ryan slowly slipped the headphones off his ears, looking up at the can of Diet Coke right next to his face, and the grinning Michael holding it. "Thanks," he muttered, taking the can.

"You looked like you could use some caffeine." Michael paused, thumbs going back to hook into his rear pockets. A look of concern settled into his face as he stared at Ryan, eyes flicking up and down his body. "Hey, you sleeping okay? You're looking kind of..."

Ryan just looked at him. He knew he looked like shit. Every day he looked in the mirror, he saw that. "Kind of?" he prompted, wondering if Michael was going to man up and complete that thought.

Instead, Michael looked at him, frowning. "Just take a nap on the couch." He reached out, shaking one of Ryan's shoulders. "Don't want you falling asleep in the middle of a recording like Ray did, right?"

That made Ryan laugh softly. "I'm fine, Michael. I've been sleeping." He popped the tab, taking a sip of the Diet Coke Michael had brought him. "I'm fine."

Michael didn't laugh with him. Instead, he stared at Ryan, hand resting on his shoulder. Then, his lips tightened as he let his hand drop. "Yeah. Fine. Don't come crawling to me when you pass out, though."

"I can't really imagine how I'd crawl when-"

"You know what I meant."

* * *

It was a bad idea.

Fuck, it was a bad idea.

Michael's head tilted back as Ryan's tongue traced a line down the taunt line of muscle. This was such a bad idea, but- fuck, Ryan didn't care anymore. He dug his teeth into Michael's neck, suckling the pale flesh to leave his mark. Michael's neck needed to be absolutely _littered_ with these marks. He needed to be marked, held, _fucked-_

And by the way Michael's hands reached up under Ryan's shirt, he felt the same. Ryan grabbed Michael's hands suddenly, wanting to pin him as he ground his hips against Michael's, grinning as the younger man huffed out a breath and strained to break free of the grasp. To grab Ryan again, take some control of the situation.

But there wasn't any control. Even Ryan could feel it. Everything was spinning out of his control, going to places he didn't know he wanted them to go. But he couldn't stop it now, and he didn't care. Just let it happen. Just fuck Michael and get it over with.

* * *

Hickies lined Michael's neck.

Why had Ryan put them there?

Fuck... while he sat there, watching Michael sleep, he couldn't even remember why he even wanted to have sex with the man.

* * *

It took a while today to get out of bed. After having sex with Michael... things had gotten a little harder. A lot of it was because he shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have fucked one of his coworkers. He had more impulse control than that! But... that wasn't something he could easily come back from. Forgetting to do something for work or finish something at home or eat or sleep, that was something he could change. But this, losing all impulse control and having Michael in his bed... that he couldn't change.

He didn't even know what Michael wanted from him. Did he want it to be one time? Ryan paused as he got dressed, trying to think if that was a good thing or not. Did _he_ want it to be one time? Did he want to only fuck Michael once? But what if Michael only wanted it to be once? What if Michael wanted it to happen again? Ryan dropped his shirt, sitting back down on the bed. He would have to go in today and face that. He could do it, and it'd be okay. But...

No buts. He was fine. This was just something he would have to deal with.

* * *

"What happened?" Michael looked embarrassed as he looked around, trying to see if anyone else was in earshot. Ryan knew what was going to come out of his mouth next. He just knew.

"You don't need to say it, Michael. It won't happen again."

Michael blinked at him, then furrowed his brow. "Dude, that wasn't even what I was going to say."

Ryan just smiled a little at him, clasping him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it," he told him, keeping his voice light. "We have to work together, right? I understand."

Michael just looked at him, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. Okay."

The smile left on Ryan's lips hurt just a little more as Michael turned to leave.

* * *

It was a cliche, but Austin traffic was terrible. It could be worse on this end of I-35, but coming south like this and with the top and bottom levels merging after MLK, it really drove home how terrible traffic really was. Ryan let off the brake slightly, inching forward before pressing back down. And he knew there wasn't even an accident. It was just traffic from around the school going into downtown. If he didn't have to get something from that side of Austin, he wouldn't have even bothered with the traffic now.

Bored, he stared out over the highway, looking at the cars on the other side and the billboards poking up over the other top level. Normally, getting up on the top level went a little quicker, but right now... Ryan turned his gaze back to the car in front of him, then back to the bottom level.

He could jump into that.

The thought made his heart pound suddenly. He could put his car into park, run, and jump. And land in the incoming traffic.

It'd be easy.

Ryan's gaze snapped suddenly back to the car in front of him, taking long shuddering breaths. No, he didn't want to do that. He was okay. He was fine. What happened to all that energy he had before? No, he was fine now and he'd be fine again.

Even if it would be really easy.

* * *

The phone dropped onto Ryan's chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He hated calling out, but... there was no way he could make it in today. Not with how he couldn't get out of bed. Just a little cold or something making him too exhausted to stand. He'd just sleep for the rest of the day and he'd be fine.

He did need to eat something, though. Or at least drink some water.

In a little bit. He needed to rest right now.

* * *

Ryan washed his hands, yawning. He hadn't been able to nap for long, but just that thirty minutes had made him feel so much better. Even so much that he regretted calling out now. Why had he called out? Just because he was a little tired? Ryan looked at himself in the mirror, lips curling. He had been a model for God's sake, and now look at him. Hair greasy, skin pale, looking exhausted- Why would anyone want anything to do with him? Why would anyone want to sleep with him except out of pity for how pathetic he looked right now?

Pathetic.

Yes, that was it. He was pathetic. He called out when he didn't need to, slept with his coworkers, couldn't even get basic tasks done on time, and now look at him. Ryan turned the tap off, eyes still boring into his reflection's. That was the only thing he could be called.

With a sudden burst of energy, his fist came up, shattering the glass around where his reflected face would be. Once wasn't enough, and Ryan hit the mirror again, again, _again_ , until blood smeared the cracks and pain burst up his arm.

He was pathetic.

* * *

"Holy shit, Ryan, what happened to your hand?" Geoff nearly stood as he caught sight of the bandage wrapped around Ryan's hand. "Everything okay?"

After he had smashed the mirror... why had he done that? Ryan flexed his hand slightly, feeling the pain of the lacerated flesh as it moved. "Yeah. I just cut my hand yesterday. I'm fine."

Michael looked over at him at those words, brow furrowed. But Ryan ignored it. He was fine.

He was always fine.


End file.
